The One in a Hundred Chance
by CNFan42
Summary: I am accepted Mamma-Ran's second 100 theme challenge on DievantART. It's going to be one big ROTBTD story set in a modren near future AU. There is no exact plot yet, but what I have planed out has the story mostly revolving around Jack. Rating T for now.
1. Chapter 1

It's been a long time since I've been back on my account. So the story... The first chapter is based on theme #39.

Jack is a homeless kid who gets himself into trouble one night and the events of that night change his life forever. You're just going to have to read it. please comment and enjoy. If you didn't enjoy, then this isn't a fanfic for you.

* * *

Alone

He still remembers that night. The night that changed his life. It was a dark cold night, but he wasn't scared. Okay, maybe he was a little scared. Still, he could take care of himself. He's had to for as long as he could remember. To him, that was a long time. He couldn't once remember a time when he had a parental figure look after him and guide him through life's hardships. So he just had to learn to do things on his own.

His name was Jack Frost. How did he know this? He didn't really. Well, his earliest memory, that he could remember, was an audiable name. "Jack…" So he believed it to be his. He highly doubted that his last name was Frost, though. He got that name because of the kids he liked to help out; one kid in particular.

Jack's only real possession was some high-tech shepherd's crook. It only activated through his touch and had some strange ability to freeze liquids and shoot ice. The most he could figure was that it was his mom's or dad's; or uncle's if he had one. Still, he took it with him where ever he went.

Jack shivered in the cold wind that blew through the alley that leads to the business district. He only had a blue hoody over a long sleeve shirt; both thin. Just like the brown skinny jeans he wore. He was slowly losing feeling in his toes because he had no socks under his beaten sneakers. He had gloves that he had found. They were already missing a few fingers, so he took the rest off. Besides, finger gloves would only break the connection to his staff.

Jack finally got to the business district. He didn't often come here due to his kind, the broke, dirty, poorly dressed, and homeless kind; being unwelcomed, but he needed some money and who better to steal it from than wealthy stuck up snobby people who wouldn't give a nickel to a hunger person in need. Truth is he wasn't stealing for himself, but to buy some winter clothing from thrift stores to give to families. The thrift stores were the one place he didn't steal from.

He hide in the shadows for a bit till the walkway was clear. He then stretched his staff out and tapped the ground with it. Frost instantly formed and spread. It spread to the sidewalk. He waited a bit, then repeated it. Two more taps later, the frost built up into a decent sheet of ice. Smooth. Slippery.

He wasn't sure how it was able to do that and other strange things. He didn't particularly care, however. It was a handy tool to have and he didn't want to risk having it never work again because he took it apart. Or worse, having it work uncontrollably.

Jack waited for someone to come along. Someone did and as expected, they slipped and slid over the ice that they didn't see. Jack was unlucky to have this one keep his footing. As the lucky businessman swore at the ice, Jack silently swore himself. Guess I'll just have to keep waiting.

He waited. In the shadows.

In the cold dark night.

Shivering and starving.

He was about to give up for now and go looking for some scrapes. Maybe sneak into a restaurant's kitchen and get away with some freshly cooked food. Then he heard someone yelp. His first target tonight. A middle aged man nearly decked in black (suit, tie, shoes, and coat) was now on the ground; half on the sidewalk, half in the alley.

Jack left his staff behind as he went to "help" the gentleman. "Excuse me, sir. Are you alright?" The man looked up at the boy who held out his hand.

He found him to be quiet odd since he looked like a teenager, but with shocking white hair. Not to mention blue eyes to go with it.

Ignoring the hand, he got up on his own. "Yes, I'm fine." He said brushing himself off. "Just slipped. Where's my phone?" he looked around for it.

"There!" Jack pointed to the device that landed not too far away and still in good condition. The man went over to pick it up. This was his chance. If he could just pick his coat pocket before he turned around. There was a big enough of a bulge to tell that it had to be a wallet.

Jack reached out. The man still hadn't gotten up.

He was just inches away. So close.

He held his breath as he was about to dip his fingers into the pocket.

SNATCH. "Got'cha!"

Some scary looking guy came up from behind Jack and grabbed him by the wrist. He had a sick green Mohawk and piercings on his ears, nose, and lips. Jack never did like those kinds of piercings and it was creepier up close, but he had other things to worry about.

To his surprise, the man he was just trying to pick pocket was… calm. He just stood up and put his phone into his coat pocket. "What should I do with him, Mr. Black?"

Oh, crap. The man, Mr. Black, turned around, giving Jack an aura of creepiness even though he wasn't as creepy looking as this other guy. What more, Jack was legibly scared. "That is a good question?"

"Would you like us to take care of him, Master?" Another guy joined them. This one big, buffed with muscles, and had a few scars on his exposed arms. How was he not cold?

Jack was scared and couldn't tell if he was shaking from fear or from the cold. He thought he was frozen in place and if he was, he had no idea how he was able to yank his wrist free and start running. Running past Mr. Black, grabbing his staff and just running.

"He's getting away!"

"Do you want us to go after him, master?"

"Catch him and bring him to me, but don't beat him up… too much." With that, Mr. Black walked off, getting back to whatever business he had before. His two thugs went after Jack.

This is just what he needed. To be cold, hungry, and now scared. It couldn't… "There he is!" Oh, great! It could get worse. Now he was cold, hungry, and scared for his life. He had to loss these guys.

He swung his staff at a stacked pile of discarded boxes, knocking them over. He did the same with some trash filled garbage cans. He looked over his shoulder just long enough to see one jump over like it was nothing and the other plow right through.

The came to a sharp turn that lead out to a street. As Jack skid to make the turn, he made a patch of ice. Hopefully that will stop them. Or at least slow them down. The Mohawk guy did a jump over it, onto the wall, and jumping off, doing a roll on the landing. The other guy just went into the wall, but quickly recovered from it. Well that kinda worked.

They continued to chase after Jack as they exited the alleyway and on to a slightly busy street. Not busy enough. They would spot him from time to time as he would find himself in exposed areas. This just wasn't his day.

After weaving into another crowd, Jack duck into another alleyway. That was a bad idea because it quickly turned into a dead end. "He went this way!"

I am so dead. Without a moment's hesitation, Jack took the only possible exit and started climbing the fire escape. He was up on about the third level by the time those thugs caught up.

"He's getting away," complained the big guy. "Not for long. Go to Dark Knock Alley, I'll lead him there."

After Jack made it to the roof, he turned around to see Mohawk guy climbing after him, much faster than it took him. This guy just doesn't quiet. Jack was starting to get tired but knew if he stopped now it may be the end of him.

When the thug had finished climbing to the roof, Jack had jumped onto a slightly high and slopped roof. He got onto the roof just in time to see him reach the top and disappear onto the other side. He followed after him, ready to grab his gun when needed. He wasn't going to shot the kid. Just barely miss him when he was about to head in the wrong attended direction.

As they leapt from building to building, they didn't notice, not that they cared at the moment, the drop in temperature. Normally Jack would seek for the nearest abandoned place and do his best to create a small fire or find enough junk to pile and keep him warm. Temperatures like this meant snow; which he admired the beauty, but hated the discomfort it brought. Of course, he had other things to worry about.

He climbed to a higher roof flat. The thug still trailing him felt lucky. The kid had been pretty much going the right way the whole time. He may not need the gun.

When Jack made it to the top, he kept going, leaping down to a slightly lower flat. He thought he could keep going, but stopped inches from running over the edge. The next roof in front of him was too far to jump.

"You want to call this the end and come with us? Promise we won't hurt you." That last part didn't sound too trustworthy.

There was another roof to his right that he could jump to. What he didn't know was that it would lead him in the direction of Dark Knock alley, where the other guy would be. He had to think fast. Jack doesn't do well under pressure, so even if he does come up with an idea, it usual goes better in his head. So his choices were either the roof to his right or risk the jump behind him.

"Come on, kid. I don't have all night." The guy pulled out his gun; not intending to shot him, but how was Jack suppose to know? It was then Jack decided to take the roof to the right. Then he changed his mind. Normally, most wouldn't chance this and go the safest way, but Jack wasn't most normal people. (His appearance was one way of proving that.) Whereas the Mohawk guy thought he was going right, Jack surprised him when he did a last minute turn.

At the last minute, Jack had noticed a fire escape on the far away building. It was a long shot…

Jack leapt over the street below. Over what seemed and should be an injumpable gap between the two buildings; hoping that the fire escape was reachable, he jumped.

The thug stood there in disbelief, thinking the kid had a death wish. "Noo!" It was already too late to stop him.

For the moment of that one jump, time seemed to slow down. In all honesty, Jack didn't think he was going to make it. Then time speed up the moment Jack's hand grasped the handle bar. He slammed into the railing and it did hurt, but he held on and didn't care for the pain that much.

Jack let out the breath he held during his jump and began climbing. When he reached the roof, he only stopped to look back. The Mohawk guy stood there, shocked, then furious. He didn't care whether or not because he was already in trouble with letting him get away and he didn't like it when he was in trouble with his boss.

Jack turned back around and was leaving (to anywhere but there) when he felt a sudden sharp pain vibrate through his right arm. He did something between a scream and a yelp. The pain was so sudden that he dropped his staff. His reflexes made him grip his arm, but that seemed to make it hurt more. Jack looked to see that his sleeve was beginning to turn red. That wasn't good.

There might have been no point, but jack turned back to see the Mohawk guy had his gun raised and he could just see smoke or steam coming from the mouth of it. Jack booked it out of there as quickly as he could; picking up his staff and running. Shots were still fired at him, but luckly they missed. In the distance, he could hear something like, "YOU'RE DEAD!" Just what he needed to haunt his dreams for a while. He didn't really care. His mind was sort of in shock from the first shot.

Jack had made it a fair distance on the roofs and manged to find a place to climb down; carefully.

In all the day hadn't gone at all in his favor. First he gets caught pick pocketing, then chased through alleys and to the roofs. Does the biggest jump of is life and in the end gets shot in the arm. Now it was snowing and he still hadn't found a fairly safe place.

His arm hurt, but the cold had numbed it out; as well as his fingers, toes, and nose. He would glance at his sleeve now and then to see the blood loss progressing. It was half blue, half red. He had no idea how much blood he could loss before it kill him, but he was starting to feel light headed.

Jack had no idea where he was going. He wasn't even sure he was somewhere he knew well. The cold and blood lost made it hard to think right. He didn't register it till a minute later, but there was an open door in the alley way he was in. light poured from it and he could hear voices.

Then a big man came out. He had a black sack over his shoulder that he dropped into a dumpster. Considering the circumstances he was in, he would have taken help from (mostly) anyone.

"H-hel-lp-p…" he was freezing and tired.

It would have appeared that the large man heard him.

"P-p-pleassse. Hel-l-lp."

Jack felt like he was going to pass out at any moment. The man came running towards him. He looked shock to see someone like him have an entire arm covered in blood. So much had been lost that now his brain didn't care what sounds it heard. All he knew was that he was being lead inside.

* * *

This was a long one to type. The next one maybe just as long, but I will make it sound good.


	2. Chapter 2

Here's an early Christmas gift for OurDreamsLive, for liking this story. I was thinking of waiting till Christmas day, but decided not to torture you with the cliffhanger. This one is a bit longer than the last and still has bit of a cliffhanger as well, but ends on a happier note from before.

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2\. Toys

Jack couldn't remember much of the rest of the night. He was about to believe he had the luck of winding up out back of a clinic because he was taking to a room with some white beds and medical supplies. His luck was never this good. He heard some names being called out. He picked up on none of them. They were too distant to him. He was then set down on one of the beds. His eyelids were threatening to close shut.

"Stay awake."

Jack registered that the man who lead him inside was now trying to talk to him.

"Can you tell me your name?"

"Ja… Jack…"

"Jack? Well, Jack, I need you to stay awake."

Normally, Jack would find most night hard to fall asleep for several reasons (uncomfortable makeshift bed, the ground, chances of being a target for another bum, ect.). He never thought it would be equally as hard to stay awake. He kept going in and out of hardly aware to barely aware. He was aware enough to know that his hoodie and shirt was being cut off. Just barely enough to feel a damp cloth cleaning up the blood. He wasn't sure what happened after that.

The last thing he saw, before he passed out, what the clump of bloody towels and how much blood was still covering his arm.

* * *

Nicholas St. North had been closing up shop at the time. It had been a long and fairly successful day. He was taking out the trash when he heard someone say "Help." The word was eclipsed with chatter, though. He looked to the alleyway.

There was a figure in the shadows. He couldn't make out who it was till they stepped closer to him. It was a teenage boy; possibly sixteen or seventeen. He looked tired. What caught North's attention more was his bleeding right arm. Its sleeve was half red and the blood was dripping off the tips of his fingers.

North immediately rushed over to the boy. He asked him if he was alright, but the boy didn't respond back. He must have lost a lot of blood. His eyes were cloudy and he was swaying. He took the boy inside, noting of how cold he was to the touch. He lead him though the back of his workshop, yelling at the workers still there to get out of the way. He took him straight to the infirmary, which was used for the workers who sustained injuries.

He quickly set the boy on the nearest bed. North could see the boy starting to drift off. He slapped him gently on the cheek, telling him to stay awake.

"Can you tell me your name?"

"Ja… Jack…"

"Jack? Well, Jack, I need you to stay awake. Doctor will be in soon."

The doctor came in. At the time, he was the only one left and was about to head home when one of the other employees came up to him saying that their boss needed to see him right away in the infirmary. When he got there, he wasn't expecting to have a bleeding, homeless looking teenager on one of the beds. He didn't need to be told the problem. He could see the boy was clearly suffering from extreme blood loss from his right arm. He hand a pair of fabric scissors to his boss and told him to start cutting off his hoodie. As North did, the doctor was betting a bowl of water and some disinfectant as well as plenty of towels. When he came back with those items, he looked back at the boy. He was going to pass out at any minute. It was hard to say how much he had lost and if he needed a transfusion.

When his hoody and shirt was off, North went to work on cleaning the blood. The doctor checked his heartbeat. At least it was still there, not well, but there. He looked again at his patient who had passed out. So far things weren't looking good. He figured some rest would do him well, but they had to make sure he was at least somewhat conscious. Every now and then, the doctor would check his heartbeat and rate. After all the blood was cleaned, they made sure the bullet wound was clean of any lead or metal. Seeing that there was an exit wound sort of relieved things. At least that meant the bullet wasn't lodged in. So they disinfected it and wrapped it in bandages and gauze.

North didn't want to keep his doctor there any long than he had to. So he let him leave for the night. Before leaving, he told his boss that he would come in early tomorrow to check on the boy.

North carried Jack up to the living quarter part of his workshop. He had many spare rooms that were only really used by the employees and during the holiday rush (so they didn't have to go back and forth with work and home all the time). He put him in a room that was at the highest level of housing for his workers. It was a room that was just a few feet from and under his own. He stayed with him till midnight. The boy hadn't stirred, but was looking like he was doing well. Remembering who cold he was, North put a couple extra blankets and a quilt on him after tucking him in bed. He even turned up the heat on the thermostat to provide a little extra warmth.

North wondered, as he watched the boy, how he ended up the way he did. No doubt he was homeless, but how did he become homeless? Also, Jack's staff, which he now took the time to examine. It looked like a shepherd's crook, but very high tech. How did he come in possession of it? All anyone could do was wait till he woke up. So he retired to bed hoping the boy would be alright in the morning.

* * *

Jack didn't feel alright. It didn't feel like his arm was going to fall off, nor the bitter cold that usually would greet him in winter mornings. There were, however, still a few unpleasant feeling as well as some new ones. His arm, the one that had been shot, had a dull throb in it. It was the first thing he felt upon waking form his dreamless sleep. It quickly brought him to realize how warm he felt. He would had been thankful for being warm, but it made him feel uncomfortable like he was sick.

He wanted to go back to sleep to escape these awful feelings. He just couldn't, though. As he gained more feeling, he felt something soft all around him. He was laying on it and it was on top of him. At first he thought snow, only snow isn't warm. To Jack, it felt great, but it still confused him. It was like he was in a dream, but knew he wasn't asleep. Also, Every now and then, Jack's body would twitch with waves of shivers. Each one pulling at him more to rejoin the world of the conscious. Seeing no point in fighting it, Jack attempted to open his eyes.

The place he was in had light dim enough for his eyes not to be blinded, but still see. The first thing he saw was fabric. Not dingy , dirty up, frayed cloth, but fabric that was clean, thick, and nicely stitched. From there he saw walls; one with a window that had the blinds pulled so that only a fraction of sunlight could get through. So that's where the light is coming from. Wait. Sunlight? Wasn't it nighttime? Jack tried to remember everything that had happened last night.

He remembered trying to pick pocket someone, then getting caught, which lead to being chased. He remembered being on the roofs and then that jump for dear life. That was kind of scary. Then…

Jack's right arm flared up in pain. He hissed to suppress a need to cry from it. He had never cried once in his life that he could remember and he wasn't going to start now.

Trying to ignore the pain, Jack continued to recollect his thoughts. After being shot, he just wandered around the alley he landed in after getting off the roofs. He believed he saw someone that came to him after he called out for help. After that… Jack thought he was lead inside and taken to some sort of infirmary, but he really couldn't recall. His mind was going fuzzy by that point. He came to the conclusion that he had passed out. Well, he was still here, so at least he hadn't died. But how long have I've been out?

He then found his clothes felt funny. He lifted the immense cover of blankets, with his other arm, to find that he wasn't in his old thin clothes, but a pair of grey sweat pant and a red sweat shirt. Who changed my clothes?!

It was then someone came in to the room. It was an old man with a long beard, but far from frail looking. This old man was big; about as big as that other thug that chat chased him. The difference between them was, for one: age; and that this guy appeared a lot more friendly.

"Good morning." He spoke kindly, too, and with an accent that sound Russian. Then again, jack didn't' know much on Russian accents since he hadn't met enough people with one.

"How are you feeling?"

"I've been better. Where am I?"

"My workshop. The living quarters of it anyways."

Jack tried sitting up, in what he realized as a bed, but his arm flared up once more. "Easy! Easy, my boy." He helped Jack sit up the rest of the way. "Your arm still hurts, doesn't it?" Jack nodded since he was in a bit too much pain at the moment.

"I wouldn't be surprised. That wound went right through your arm. No bones damaged or lodged metal bits, but you had lost a lot of blood. As soon as doctor had it stitched, you were out like light."

Jack, thought, he understood what he was saying. He could now recall a bit more clearly after being brought inside. He could recall his clothes being cut off (which would explain these new ones.) There was the coolness of the washcloths used to whip away the blood. He cringed a little remembering nothing, but black and moments of pain as it felt like something was poking in and out of his arm.

"Jack was your name, right?"

"Uh… yeah…" He wasn't sure if it was his real name.

"Well, Jack, I am Nicholas St. North."

North? That name sounded familiar. "Wait. North as in 'The North Pole Workshop owner' North?"

"The one and only." Jack felt light headed and about ready to pass out again; and he almost did. He would have said it was from shock that he was in the presence of the greatest toy maker of all time and not from the sudden spike in his fever. Still, some how he had grown more tired and overheated either in the last few seconds or gradually over the last few minutes. He wasn't really sure. All he knew was that the room was swaying one minute and the next Mr. North was holding him by the shoulder to keep him steady.

"Are you alright, Jack?"

"Just a little too warm."

"The doctor, who treated you, will be here soon. Here, have some water." North grabbed the glass of water that had been sitting on the nightstand since last night. Jack starred at it with partly lucid eyes. It was like a gift from the angels.

North held the glass as Jack, first took a small sip of water, then another, then a slightly larger one. He savored every last drop of clean water, regardless of how warm it was. He pulled back after drinking half the glass. "Thank you."

Jack laid back down. North left the room at one point, most likely to see if that doctor was here. While he was gone, Jack suddenly remembered his staff. He panicked, but quickly calmed down when he eyes spotted it in a corner by the window. He wouldn't know what he would do if he lost the one thing that has kept him alive and was the only clue to his true identity.

The doctor came in minutes later. North had already explained to him that the boy still felt pain in his arm and was now running a fever. A bad one after taking his temperature. He check the bullet wound and cleaned it a second time, then put fresh bandages on it. That was about all he could do. His boss told him that he wanted to watch over the him.

Everyone who knew or worked with him, knew that the man had a big heart for kids; teenagers were no exception. They knew that he would take time out of his busy work life to help a child in need. It made them wonder if he had any children of his own at one point. But right now, this one needed him, or someone, to watch over him.

All the doctor could do was leave him with some instructions: don't let his fever get too high and make sure he gets plenty of water. Keep him in bed with a damp cloth on his forehead. He left him with some medicine that would help with the fever and pain. They both agreed that the boy would need to eat as well. They were shocked after taking off his hoodie and short to see just how slim and bony he was.

* * *

For the past few days, after the night Jack was brought in, he had been getting better. Jack was woken up now and then, but he didn't mind because it meant food and water. He wasn't a big fan of the medicine, though. That liquid stuff- that helped with his fever- was vile to taste. He didn't mind complained, thought. The pills he took kept the pain to a dull, bearable throb.

One day, when North came in to check on him, Jack was already awake. In his lap was the shepherd's crook.

"That's quiet an unusual item you have." Jack didn't hear him come in. he was a little startled, but didn't let it show much.

"Yeah. It it."

"I am curious," he started as he to a seat beside the bed. "As to where you got it."

For a while, Jack was silent. He looked in the opposite direction of North, but wasn't looking at anything in particularly.

"you don't have to tell me." Said North. "I won't pry. However, I would like to know how you got hurt."

Jack found that one just as difficult to answer. "Well… stuff like this just … sometimes happen.. when you… live on the streets." Well it wasn't a total lie. "And how long has that been?"

Jack bit his bottom lip, hoping he would just as easily let it go like the other one, but there was probably no avoiding it. "About… three years now?"

North didn't hide that he was surprised to hear this. Then again, he should have expected to hear something like this.

"My parents…" Jack wasn't entirely sure if he was comfortable telling him anything personal or that wasn't true. So he told him something that was sort of believable. "My parents died about four years ago. I didn't have any known relatives, so I've been taking care of myself since." It wasn't a lie because for all he knew his parents were dead, but it wasn't the truth either.

North, however, seemed to believe it. He didn't ask it, but he figured that the staff was a memento of them. Which would be why he didn't seem too quick to answer when he asked about it. This new information about Jack put North into a difficult position. Here was a teenage boy who had lost his parents and has been just barely surviving on his own for the past few years. He nearly died a couple nights ago and if he hadn't have seen the boy when he did, or the boy had been anywhere else at that time with that injury, he probably would be dead. So what does one do with a child after caring for them because they happened across you, bleeding and asking for help? One thing was for sure. You simply don't throw them out after that. Especially, if they're homeless and without family or friends to care for them. So he asked him.

"Would you like to stay here for one or two more nights?"

Jack starred at him, eyes wide. He couldn't believe he was hearing this. Heck, he couldn't believe any of this was real. It had all been like a dream. Waking up in the care and home of the city's greatest toy maker, then offered a few more extra night of stay. Just the past few day of being sick had been luxury for him. That's it. I really did die in an alley and have gone to heaven. "No. I couldn't."

"It would be no trouble."

"I've already over stayed my welcome and I appreciate what you've done for me, Mr. North." Jack got out of bed, attempting to head out the door. "I just couldn't" North stopped him.

"North."

"Huh?"

"You can just call me North. And, if you're that adamant about leaving, how about I give you tour of my workshop before you go?"

Seeing how the great toymaker makes his goods? That was practically every kid's dream. Okay, Jack was a teenager , but was practically a kid at heart. This offer, he would gladly accept.

North led him down to the highest level of the workshop. He explained to Jack that everything above this floor was pretty much his home or housing for some workers. As they went from floor to floor, He explained what they did at each of the different departments and how they did it. He even threw in a few stories how things that had happened in that area that were sometime funny. Jack was intrigued to hear it all and wanted to get up close to just about everything that moved mechanically. At one point, North had to pull him back from a sewing machine so it didn't stitch his nose.

Jack noted that a lot of the workers that were there this early in the morning, were either really big like their boss or really short like children (with the exception of any female workers). But he gave all of them credit, seeing them make such amazing toys. Before, he would only look at them through the window of the store, wondering what it was like to be one of those lucky kids whose parents just bought it. Now he was getting to see cars and hovercraft toys being made next to animatronic toy birds and Suzui dolls. There was every toy imaginable and ones that weren't being sold anywhere else.

The tour ended with a quick showing of the actual store. Being in there made it almost feel like it was really Christmas. The way parts of the interior shined. It wasn't just the toys that were crafted. The hand railing, columns, ceiling, that and the added holiday decorations. This was Santa's workshop alright. Jack wished he could have stuck around in there a little longer, but they were about to open shop. The last thing people needed to see when they first come in is some kid in pajamas.

North gave him some old clothes that he had in storage, but about were about Jack's size. After all, the ones he had before were no good. He gave him socks to actually keep his feet warm. He also gave him a light blue long sleeve turtle neck. The old brown jacket was a little big on him, as was the jeans; North gave him a belt to help keep them up. Jack still kept his shoes and fingerless gloves.

After grabbing his staff from the room he had been in for the past few days, he stepped out through the back door he first came in through. The cold didn't seem to affect him as much.

"Thank you, North. For everything."

"Don't mention it. And come back any time you need a place for the night. My doors will always be open for you."

Jack left feeling… well, the happiest he could remember. For once he got to sleep in a decent bed. He got fed food that wasn't partly rotten. He was going to miss it, but he didn't want to be a burden. So why did a part of him feel sad that he turned down the offer to stay?

As for North, he didn't like letting Jack go like that. He figured, though, that it couldn't be helped. The boy hardly knew him so it wasn't like he could trust him in an instant. Plus, he didn't want to be forced to stay, even if it was to help him.

It was then that north thought of something, but all he could do was wait and hope Jack would consider coming back soon. If he did, North would give him an offer that he hoped the boy would take.

* * *

I was thinking of introducing Merida in the next Chapter. Either her or Tooth and Bunny. I will like it to you, the readers, to decide.


	3. Chapter 3

Hello. I know that it has been around six months since the last update. A lot has happened. first I didn't work on the story that much for a while. Then I got back to it. Then I lost the thumb drive that had a fully typed up chapter three on it before I backed it up or got it on my account. So... yeah.

I will admit. What I got here is different from what I originally had done, but still sticks with the idea of it. This one is theme number 83: Red

And to make up for the long waiting you were all so kind to go through, here's an added treat. I will also be posting up chapter four along with this. And that's not all. I plan on working and posting up a completed chapter five within the next forty-eight hours of these two postings. Of course, I will still make it a good chapter.

Now enough of that. Go on and read what you've been waiting for!

* * *

3: The Red-headed Girl

As soon as the final bell rang out, all the kids in Ms. Hannah's Algebra class bounced out of their seat and headed for the door. The most enthusiast of them was a wild red-headed tenth grader, who had to make a quick stop at here locker. Once there, she threw her math book into it and grabbed her after school gear before slamming the locker door shut.

Algebra… no. Math in general just wasn't her strong point. This was bad for her since her mother had high educational expectations. Any test or quizzes that were B-'s or below didn't fly with that woman.

She bounded down the hallways and out the main entrance of the school. Occasionally, she was acknowledged be a few people, that were kind of friends, who called out, "See you later, Merida." Merida left the school grounds in a hurry, which was normal for her on a Thursday. Thursdays, every week, meant the Walter High Archery Club meets. A brief history of the club, it was started the year before Merida started going to WHS, but when she did, she instantly joined. To this date, she had never missed a single meet.

However, the club had some changes made this year. Instead of being at the school, the school had given them funding for them to hold their meets at an indoor shooting range about five and a half blocks down from the school. With another three blocks over it was about a fifteen minute walk; ten if she ran. Because of this, the actual meets didn't go for as long as before. They could only reserve a few spaces for an hour.

Merida gladly walked out of the school grounds, heading straight for the shooting range. Thinking that she'd get there quicker by taking the back alleys as a shortcut, she made a turn about a block and a half down. This wasn't a path she took all the time. Mostly during the colder parts of the season and today was colder than yesterday, it felt like; and that day felt colder than the day before. Then again one wouldn't be surprised for it was the beginning of an early winter. It had snowed a couple days back, but hadn't anymore since. There were still hints of it here and there, but what was on the street had melted days ago. In all honesty, Merida didn't like the cold that much. Somedays it was bearable. Today, and like yesterday, was not that day. It made her shiver like from a witch's cold spell. The sooner she got to the indoor shooting range, the sooner she could feel her fingers.

She made it through the alley and crossed the street to another one that would lead to the back of the range. She only made it someway in for she saw something that made her stop. A loud bang could be heard from further in the alley. Best guess it was coming from the near by dumpster. Merida approached it with cation. When she got up next to it, she could here someone talking inside of it. They sounded pretty hopeless. Were they stuck in there?

* * *

Jack felt awful, but then anyone would after a beating like that. After Jack had left Mr. North's toy store, he went to go check on a friend of his. His friend was just a kid in elementary school, but he was a pretty cool and smart kid. He waited outside the school perimeters till the release bell rang. However, he wasn't the only one. Some high schoolers where also there. Mean ones by the looks of it. They started ganging up on the kids and Jack wasn't about to stand for it.

In the end, Jack- with the help of his high-tech staff- set all four of them to the hospital or a clinic with frostbite on their faces. He made sure that it was only minor cases. He thought that was the last time he would see them. The universe just loves to prove him wrong.

They had been looking for him since that week and it was today that they had found him. They had gone to the hospital, but the nurses and doctors didn't believe them when they said it was inflected on them by some white-headed teen. Neither did the police. Some luck in Jack's favor. Except, as a result, the beat him up. Jack could have fought back this time, but he had his staff hidden out of reach. Not sure if that was good or bad, but if he had it and they took it, that would be bad. So there wasn't much that he could do beside take the beating.

When they were done, they tossed him into a near by dumpster. Being inside it, was dark, smelly, and not at all good. Even if he wasn't sore with bruises, cuts, and bumps, he was still not strong enough to push up the lid. This was when he started to freak out.

"Oh crap! Crap! Crap!"

Since one arm washing doing it, he tried both. Bad idea. He hissed in pain from applying pressure to it. He was sure he didn't have anything as serious as broken bones so maybe that arm got bruised pretty bad. At the moment, he couldn't tell how bad he was. If Jack could stand he would, for it would make it easier to open with one arm, but that was hard with the slippery bottom hidden under the coating of loss trash. "Of all places, it had to be a dumpster." Was this it? What else could he do? Call for help? It was worth a shot? "Someone help!" He felt like he was kidding himself. Like anyone was going to hear him.

I don't believe it. I'm going to die homeless in a dumpster.

Then, as though some miracle had just been granted on him once again, a knock from outside resonated inside. "Hello?"

Wait? Someone actually heard me? "Is someone out there? Please help!"

The lid of the dumpster was opened. Jack took the chance to get out of there. Though he freaked out whoever had just freed him, he was thankful for the fresh cold air and freedom. After tumbling onto the ground, he got right back up. He then spotted his savor. He was surprised a bit.

It was a teenage girl that might have been the same age as him. She had blue eyes like him, only they made her wild red long hair stand out at a level the could be equal with his. The freckle face made her looks complete and she looked cute.

"Are you alright?" she asked in an Irish accent with uncertainty and a questioning face.

"Yeah! Fine! At least I'm a lot better now that I'm out of there. Thank you."

* * *

Merida freaked as the mysterious person came tumbling out of the dumpster. Even more, it appeared to be a whited haired teen. He quickly stood up, brushing of any dirt or grim. She asked him if he was alright cause he didn't seem so. One eye was swollen and bruised. His bottom lip was busted open and covered in dry blood. Taking in everything else about him, it was hard to say if he was homeless or just got mugged.

He said he was fine, but if only he know how bad he looked. He went behind the dumpster now, reaching back there and pulling something out. It looked like some shepherd's crook. Okay, weird.

"Well, if I were you, I'd go home or to a hospital."

"Yeah, I guess. Well, Thanks again. Your a life saver." And with that he walked past her and out of the alley.


	4. Chapter 4

As I promised. Chapter four.

Number 33: Wanted.

* * *

4\. Help Wanted if Needed part 1

Man, what a week. He had never had such an… eventful week; or two. First chased by a couple of henchmen's for trying to pickpocket their boss. He gets shot and (thankfully) ends up in the care of the famous toy maker. Sure there was the few days of fever recovery, but they had been the most comfortable days of his past three years. If there was a chart to show how comfortable to how miserable those his life has been, those days would had been his highest point. They would then take a steep drop. Getting beat up by brute high school kids for defending much younger ones, not fun.

He was just glad that girl showed up when she did. After everything that he had to face, it would suck for his life to end in a dumpster. Those how think that would be poetic are just sick. Well, he supposed there was nothing left to do, but figure out… what to do. Jack had never really gotten this injuries before. Heck, the shot to the arm was more than a first for him. Another thing was that he had never been to a hospital or clinic either. He was pretty sure that you needed to pay for stuff like that or have… what was the word? Insurance? Yeah! That! What ever that is.

"What do I do now?"

Jack didn't have means to either and didn't have anywhere to go. Except for one. He had thought about the off that the kind man made him. Part of him wanted to, but another part of him just wasn't sure. No could blame him for thinking that. After all, living your life on the street isn't easy and walk in the parks can turn to hiding from rangers who have caught you too many times trying to sleeping there.

"I really don't have many choices here, do I?" The man had saved his life and he felt like he owed him for that. This is what he thought of on the way there. Jack figured that it be best to try the back do when he got there. No one would want to see his kind in that store. "If he asks me to stay the night, I guess, but just one night. Leave in the morning." He really did hate to bother him like this, but Jack figured it wouldn't be too much trouble. He hoped.

* * *

Jack was now just outside the back door. Now what? It would probably be best to knock, but would anyone even hear him or answer? Well, there was only one way to find out. Jack knocked on the door and waited patiently. The frigid air caused small impulses of shivers to his body. It could be worse of a feeling if he had only his old clothes. These ones that were given to him did a better job of keeping him a tad warmer. Even if only a tad.

Jack knocked again on the door. This time someone answered. It wasn't North, however. This guy was, in comparison, equal tall, large, and also had a lot of facial hair that made his face look… well hairy. Only this guys mustache and hair was more wild and less groomed and he appeared to be just a few years younger.

"Umm… Hi…"

* * *

North was thrilled when one of his workers came to him, saying that a strange white-haired young boy was at the back door claiming to know him. He took a break from his work to go greet him. It had been a week since the homeless teen had left. While he won't going to hold the boy against his will, he still worried. A boy that young shouldn't be living on the streets.

When he got to the back of the shop, he found Jack sitting in a chair in the corner with Phil standing not to far. He didn't look too pleased about this boy showing up and Jack didn't look too comfortable either. "It is alright, Phil. I do know him. You may go." The hairy man said something in Russian, that only North could understand, before walking away. North looked to Jack, who seemed a bit confused, but glad that the other guy saws gone.

"Do not worry. That's Phil, head of security here."

"Does he speak or even understand English?"

"He understands a bit, but his native tongue is Russian."

North finally noticed the black eye and other scrapes on Jack's face. "Jack, what happened to you?" Jack looked to the floor as though he was ashamed. Taking a deep breath, he figured it wouldn't hurt to tell him the truth.

"After I left that week ago, I stopped by at the school of this friend of mine. He's in elementary, but he's a really cool kid."

North found this a bit odd, but stayed quiet and listened.

Anyways, some older high school kids also showed up and started to gang up on him and his friends."

He was pretty sure where this was going and didn't like it.

"So I stepped in to try and stop them, but I…"

"-Got beaten up?"

"What?! No! Not quiet." The boy looked to the strange staff he had. North saw it as an odd thing for anyone to have. What was it about it that made it so special? Jack grabbed it, held it in his lap, judging something about it. Finally he spoke. "This staff… it allows me to… do stuff."

"Like what?"

"Look, I'm not really use to this, so give me a break."

"What do you mean?" Why was the boy getting so agitated?

"This! This whole coming to someone for help and… them actually caring." Now he understood. It made sense, too. The boy had been living on the street long enough to know that you can't always trust anyone and his trust in others was very slim. He could tell that with Jack, he wanted to trust him, but just those few years alone had built up walls.

"Come. I take you to infirmary. We talk more there."

Jack shrugged and stood up out of the chair. North noticed that he was gingerly holding his arm. The same arm that was previously injured. As they walked, he got the boy to come out with more of his story. He didn't care if he didn't give the details of his staff.

"Well, when they wouldn't leave the kids alone, we fought, and I kind of ended up sending them to the hospital, but it was anything serious. I don't think I'm strong enough to do anything that bad."

"You'd be surprised. In that situation, you were protecting little ones from being harmed. I think you could if you had to."

The boy looked surprised. North then asked him to continue on right as the got to the infirmary.

"Well, you see no one believed them when they told the doctors or the police that I beat them up, so earlier today, they found me and… I let them do this to me" gesturing to his face. Now that explained it, but North still had one question. Well, he would hold off on it for now. Jack need medical attention.

* * *

Who ever those teens were did a number on Jack. The doctor had given him an ice pack to keep on his one swollen eye. This time Jack's right arm was placed in a sling. While there was no broken bones still, it had most likely been still healing from the gun shot wound and would now take longer for the muscles to heal now. North brought Jack up to the living area of his shop.

Jack could guess now with more certainty that he was going to ask him to stay at the workshop again. He didn't want to be a burden. That and, as comfortable as beds are, he wasn't use to this kind of living.

The toymaker took him in to a kitchen/ dinning area. "Cookies?" asked North as he gestured to a plater of cookies under a glass cover. "Um… No thanks."

The two of them sat down across from each other at a large wooden table. North then proceeded to ask the question that had been on his mind from earlier. "I am curious about one thing from your story. Why did you let them beat you up when they found you? Why not fight back like before?" Not the question Jack was expecting, but it still put him in an uncomfortable position. "Well, I had this thing hidden," he gestured with his staff. "I guess I figured that it be better to hide it, get beat up, and still have it later than have it, fight, and risk losing and having it taken. Or worse, broken."

"It means that much to you?"

"Well, it's the only thing I have. The only thing I can call mine."

"I see."

For a few moments there was nothing, but silent awkwardness filling the space. Finally, North spoke. "Jack, after you left, I've been thinking and while I know neither one of us hardly knows the other, I want you to hear me out on this." Jack wasn't sure what to expect now and was frankly a little scared. Still, Mr. North had been more than kind to him so far, so what could hurt, right? Jack nodded in agreeing to hear the old man out. "I can understand from your view that it can be hard to trust people, but I want you to understand from my view, how hard it is to see someone of your age living out on the streets. Follow?"

Jack thought about what he said. Was he pitying him? Sure sounded that way. He kind of understood what he was saying, but Jack didn't really get the true meaning at the time.

"In short, I want to help you, Jack."

Jack never thought he would hear those words. He never even thought if he thought he would hear those words. Someone helping him because they wanted to? He had to be dreaming, right? Just the thought made Jack give a light chuckle, as though he found it amusing. "Help? I had been on my own for like, three… four years now?" Jack stood out of his chair. "I've had to scavenge for food, clothing, and and a half comfortable place to sleep. And now someone wants to help me?" Jack didn't believe it. He couldn't believe it. He wouldn't.

Before North could say anything to calm the boy down, he started to leave. He rushed out the door, through the workshop, passing Phil along the way, and ran out the back door. North ran after him the whole way, trying to get him to stop, but failed and only watched as the distressed homeless teen ran out of sight into the alley. When Phil asked him what had happened, North didn't give him a straight answer. He simply told him to mind the shop while he went out.


	5. Chapter 5

I did my best to do this within 48 hours and still make it good. I hope you all like it. Please read and review.

* * *

5\. Help Wanted if Needed part 2

Somewhere where down a darkening alley way was an upset teen. He didn't care about the current chill of the air or the fact that the sun was starting to go down. He was too upset to even care about his stomach growling at him for not accepting any cookies when they were offered to him. He was upset at why everything was starting to happen to him. Why, after living on the streets for four years, being ignored and shown disgust at, was someone just now showing him any kindness? To him, it didn't make any sense. Even if a small part of him deep inside wanted to trust him and be grateful for the kindness, he had built up too many thick walls to allow that.

Jack wandered around the city, not sure what to do. He eventually found himself at one of the city's plaza. The one with the statue of four people; a family he assumed. Sitting under this statue was, in a way, therapeutic for him. He only came here when he had to do some thinking. Jack took his usual spot by it. The sky was turning a yellowish orange color and the air becoming more chilled by the hour.

People passed him by, wanting to get home or to somewhere warm before nightfall. None of them payed him any mind to him. It was like they didn't see him. This was what Jack was use to. This was what he had gotten accustom to; being ignored, unwanted, and lonely. It was hard the first year on his own. Wasn't so bad come the second year. Half way through his third year, he was use to it.

If someone came up to him back then and said they wanted to help him, he probably would have let them. Now, in his mind, he was too broken into this way of life. He didn't think that he could have a life where he would have free food or a bed every night. As much as he would want that, he didn't think he could have or even deserved it. Not after all the stealing and pickpocketing he's done.

Jack's stomach gave another growl, this one a bit louder. He cursed himself now for not taking any cookies when they were offered to him. Oh well. Probably didn't deserve them anyways.

* * *

Even though it was getting dark, that still didn't stop Nicholas St. North from searching. He wasn't exactly sure what he had said to upset Jack, but he wanted to find him to set things right. He just wouldn't be able to live with himself knowing that there was something he could have done to save the life of a child. Even if that child was technically around the age of fifteen or sixteen. He looked everywhere for Jack. It shouldn't be that hard to spot him after all, what with that shocking white hair of his.

* * *

The sun was nearly gone now. Street lights and light up signs turned on and took over the job of illumination. The cold, just barely bearable now, created off and on shivers with Jack's body. He still hadn't moved from his spot and wouldn't be surprised if his butt was now frozen to the concrete. It wasn't like he had anywhere to go anyways.

Thinking back to earlier, was Mr. North going to offer him another chance to stay the night? After what was said to him, he let himself get angry and upset. It got the best of him and he stormed out. Maybe he should have tried to stay calm. Great. Now he was beating himself up. Well he should. It was too late to change what had happened. He might as well spend another night-another wintery season night- sleeping out in the cold. He was use to it anyways; as bad as that sounds.

* * *

The sun was nearly gone now. What more, light flakes of snow were coming down. North adjusted his coat to counter act the cold. He still haven't found Jack. He had even asked a few people if they have. None of them did.

He soon found himself at one of the city plazas. He was about to give up for the day, maybe search for him tomorrow or ask for the help of one of his long time friends. He pushed up his coat sleeve to look at his watch. Six forty-five. He couldn't keep searching all night. North was about to head back to his shop, when he spotted that white hair. Just on the other side of the plaza statue, was Jack. He was huddled under the statue, sitting on the bass of it. It was a sad sight to look at. North approached him quietly, not wanting to spook the boy.

"Jack?"

Jack jumped when he heard his name behind him. He turned around, not expecting to see the toymaker himself. Had he been looking for him since he ran out?

"Mind if I join you?" he asked, motioning to a spot next to Jack.

"Umm… sure."

North sat next to him on the cold concrete.

"Look, I'm sorry I got upset and ran off like that. I'm just not use to people wanting to help me."

"Are you scared?"

"Of what?"

"You tell me!"

Okay, Jack was confused. He asks if he was scared and expects him to answer? What was it that he was scared of when it came to people helping him? What?

Then it he realized it. "I think it's that I want to believe them, but if I do… then they'd turn around and leave me."

Now North understood a bit more. It was all the more reason to reach out and help the boy. "I see."

"I think it was something that I knew I was scared of, but didn't want to admit it. I wanted to… trust someone… hopefully."

This was, as far as North saw it, was the perfect time to give his offer. He wouldn't expect much trust from the boy. He wasn't expecting miracles or anything, but this was a first step in helping him get a better life.

"Well, I want you to know that I want to help you and for that, I need you to trust me. That's why I have another offer." Jack really did want to trust him and it seemed to him that he wanted to help him. He had already. Though, the two of them were still somewhat strangers to each other. Jack took a deep breath and gave his full attention to hear what North had to say. "I want to give you a job." What?

"At the workshop. Think of it like this, you work at my store and I'll give you a room and meals. It seems as a fair offer." Jack was dumbfounded. Defiantly something he wasn't expecting. Though he couldn't argue at how fair the offer was. Work for room and food. That almost sounds like how normal people do thinks for a living, right? There was just one problem. "But I've never done anything like what I'm guessing is required there. I've never worked a day in my life."

North stood up. "I can train you then." He offered a hand to him. "Of course, after you have healed a bit more." Jack hesitated a bit in taking it. His stomach kept telling him to take it. They both heard another audible growl from his thin frame. It was, in a way, amusing. While Jack didn't take the offered hand, he did take the offer. Using his staff as a boost, Jack got his frozen butt off the concrete and let the old man lead him back to his shop.

"Mr. North?"

"Hm?"

"Thank you."

"You can just call me North, remember? And your welcome."

* * *

I may do a part three for this before moving to the next theme. Just to give some more fill and so I don't have to make the next chapter so long like previous ones. The next theme will be a a combo theme, so look forward for that.


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